CYLINDER - CHAPTER 2
Finally, I seemed to know where I was. Underneath the lava pit, an oasis emerged from the black tar-infested depths below. But I knew, I had lived. Through the hardship of the flames, per aspera, I found myself in paradise. A woman, with sandy black hair, eyes the color of violet, approached me, an apple with a straw impaled through the center of it in her hand.
Hello, welcome.
Snatching the apple with the straw out of her hand, I immediately began to suck it down my gullet. I was so thirsty, nothing tasted good in the orb, only the thought of freedom, only the thought of salvation. I looked toward the shoreline. Out in the distance, this mirage of a sand palette stretched for miles. I knew where I was, but she did not.
Hello, I said back.
In an instant, an arrow emerged between her violet eyes. The woman fell down cold next to me, the hooting sounds and hollering behind her, closely gaining on us. She looked at me, the sand dotting her cold gaze, the violet eyes, which burned, now seared and sizzled in the hot artificial sun.
It wasn’t long after the blisters showed up on my feet that I saw the people in the bleachers, they were just out of eyesight, just beyond the waves, but I saw them, laughing, cheering, hooting, their necks twisting about, smacking the person next to them, men, women, women who looked like men, popcorn like fountains, sodas sticky on their hands and palms, it was a sport, and we were the trophies.
FTAANG! An arrow whizzed past my head, this fucker was a good shot!
“Hey, nice shot” I yelled, as my feet began to give out on me. I needed to find somewhere to go or I was going to be the next instant replay on the floating jumbotron. The jumbotron leered over me. Over me. I knew that was where SHE was. SystemHeavenExecutor, the midnight beast of cruelty, wrapped in a consumable package for all of America. SHE was laughing, SHE was calling people to gather around and look at the newest victim.
But it was not going to be me, so I did the unthinkable.
I whipped my head around to see another ARROW whizzing past. Beyond me, men turned into monsters, ragged teeth in rancid mouths, skin burnt from the inimitable power of the artificial sun, hair growing on the side of their heads, open wounds, tattered clothing, and they all wanted one thing: blood.
Charging at their crowd, charging at me.
If I was going to die, I was going to make it glorious.
The first man grabbed for my velcro coat, I quickly grabbed his blade from him, in a furor of divinity and truth, and slashed his throat open. After the second man had blood sprayed into his eyes, I slashed the back of his leg, bringing him to his knees. The third man, out of options, ran into the water, I dove in after him, only to come up in a pile of red mist and matter. The fourth man had a camera in his hands, only to find himself the author of his own demise.
I had done it, I slain the wild beasts of the field, and found myself inhuman.
How could I move that fast? How did I know where to cut, where to pull the life out of these people? All I knew was that I could do it, and I was going to do it until I reached the bottom of the cylinder.
People never built upwards anymore and if I was going to find HER, I was going to immerse into the deep unknown of this corporatocratic nightmare known as The Cylinder.
Suddenly, the island was covered in darkness. I felt hungry, I knew that I was awake, but everything felt asleep. The bleachers in the distance no longer had any movement, the cheers had gone silent. The light switch of the world had been flicked into the off position permanently.
I waded into the water. Into the cold misty darkness, the artificial sun nowhere to be seen.
Something moved in the darkness of the water, something massive, like a pyramid, made of stone, scales and all.
I had no choice, the only way out was down, into the darkness of the water, the shapes, the rays of light slowly fading from above, the pulse in my veins screaming to get out from the prison that was the nervous system, every synapse in my brain screaming at me, telling me, begging me to not go deeper into the water, but there I was, plunging deeper into the darkness, every bad movie of my life on repeat, running from that coldness that was all around, consumed by the anchor tied to my ankle, pulling me further into the primordial soup.
And then, the bottom, gasping for air, I was falling asleep, I was not awake, I felt it, the hollow floor, the BOTTOM, I slammed my fists into it, it would give, these people love a show, SHE loves a show, and surely, it gave.
